Hey, you've got the girl, I've got the picture. That's fair, right?

Querida, it's alright," he said. "No one has hurt me in years."
"Hey, you're supposed to be my brother," I said, trying to joke. "Brother's don't hold their sisters' hands or call them querida."

Seb smiled, his hazel eyes starting to dance. "Yes, they do," he said. "This happens all the time."
"Well I guess things are different in Mexico then," I said. "Because in America, no way. And I'm an American."

"But you're in Mexico now," he pointed out.
"Right. And you're saying here, boys holds hands with their sisters and call them sweetheart."

"Oh yes. We're very friendly, we Mexicans.

After a long time, I cleared my throat. “So anyway, when we get to Nevada...I think we should rethink your
dad’s rule.”
Alex glanced down at me and smiled – the first real smile I’d seen on his face in a long time. “You know
what? It’s already been rethought and completely ditched,” he said. And he wrapped his arms around me
and we stood looking up at the mountains, with the rising rays of the sun lighting them from the east.

This is the ultimate bad-boy date, isn't it? Breaking into a different country."

"Hey, it makes a change from hot-wiring cars together."

"Been there, done that....Alex seriously, are you sure no one's going to shoot us?

It's funny, because readers think they want the characters to be blissfully happy, but it makes it kind of boring for the reader.

There's always that discussion about fiction about how do you market it - these are books for boys, these are books for girls, these are books for adults. Actually, they're just stories, and if they're good stories, then they surpass those boundaries.